


Three Heats

by crystalsexarch



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Established Relationship, F/M, Have mercy on my soul, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Vaginal Sex, not everything in each chapter of course but uh, uhhhh, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalsexarch/pseuds/crystalsexarch
Summary: This doesn’t make any sense. Why would male Miqo’te go intoheat? That’s forfemalecats. This is ridiculous! Who let this become a trope? What kind of degenerate would envision such a scenario? And write about it? And post it on AO3?...First chapter features female WoL. Second will feature male WoL. Gods have mercy on my soul.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 29
Kudos: 224





	1. At Her Command

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninnie_eats_chips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninnie_eats_chips/gifts).



> 1:54 PM · Feb 3, 2020  
> “If exarch has been edging for 100+ years I assert that he has the climax control of a god and can come on command.”  
> @fishuffxiv

Sunlight, warm and welcome, spread over the lance leaned against the dining table of the Warrior’s room in the Pendants. From across the room, she stared at the black old thing and thought about how she’d be in trouble in perhaps half a bell. The sun’s angle would change. That little glint of light would shoot her way, sure as an arrow, and she would reluctantly have to adjust her position to keep it from blinding her. And that task she was loathe to do, given the intertwining she’d accomplished with her dear friend and lover, the Crystal Exarch.

The Warrior brought her eyes back to the bundle of red hair lying on her chest. When she drew her hand across his forehead, his gentle breaths stunted and he called her name. The sound brought a smile to her lips, but before she could respond, he was calling it again, raising himself like he’d heard his own name in the distance.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Something is wrong.” The night disappeared from his eyes. He pulled an arm out from beneath her and whipped the covers down with his other, only to lurch off the bed and step into the sunlight.

The glistening of his crystal skin caught the Warrior’s tired eyes for a moment, but her gaze drifted to her lover’s heaving chest, his naked shoulders drawing up and down with stress. “Raha?”

“Something...isn't right."

"I believe you mentioned."

Tail winding, he patted his chest and turned himself in circles, brought his hands up to his ears then finally back down to his center, where they came to a rest. His voice was dark and deep. " _Oh. Oh no._ "

The Warrior drew the covers back over her chest and rolled onto her side. “Oh?” Even troubled as he was, his silhouette looked like glory. The light rounded his muscles like it was afraid to hit him too hard.

He turned over his shoulder, slow as the minute hand on a broken grandfather clock. He looked _grim._ He looked almost _angry_ , as though the heat of his shoulders could have raised the hair from the back of his neck. “Forgive me. I mistakenly believed such things were beyond me.”

“Such things? What manner of thing ails you?”

He shifted his weight and hunched his back, like his stomach ached. “That this base biological imperative would rear its head…” He offered a sad smile.

It was a smile of which the Warrior was not overly fond. It reminded her of the days he spent covering his face, projecting confidence in the face of certain misfortune. “You’ll have to be frank with me.”

As his eyes slipped from the Warrior to the window, the corners of his lips turned down. “Please my love. Grant me this mercy. Rather than hear this shame from my lips, I’d have you understand the truth after I’ve returned to the Tower proper.” Nigh limping, he stepped over to the desk where his robes had ended up the night prior.

But she didn’t like the sound of that. “No,” she said, hopping out of bed. “You cannot honestly expect me to let you suffer alone.”

He started sorting through the fabrics. “This problem...if indeed I’ve diagnosed myself properly...is exactly the sort of problem best worked through—”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Alone.”

The Warrior stood naked just a few fulms away in all her scarred beauty. The Exarch could not help himself from staring, but she couldn’t figure out why he stared not with wonder but _intensity_ —the fever of his eyes more closely resembled _bloodlust_ than _lust_.

He clenched his hand into a fist, pressed his nails into his palm. The crystal arm steadied him on the back of the desk chair, but still he looked like a stiff wind would have had him on the floor. “I beg of you. Come not a step closer.” A growl, as much as it was a command.

The Warrior twitched her fingers and frowned. “Ra...ha…?”

A rush of air came from his lungs. He was practically draped over the wood now, head downturned and dark, eyelids shut so hard wrinkles framed his face. “Please,” he begged. “I can smell you well enough from here. And it’s...it’s _intoxicating_ …” He spat the last word in time with a furious lash of his tail.

_Intoxicating?_

She cocked her head. “You mean to say...you like the way I smell? And this is a problem?”

“It is...more complicated than that.”

“You are having trouble coming to terms with your lust? The lust you have for your….for your lover?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, ears pinned back. “This is more than simple lust. This is every human onze of me yielding to a primal bidding, long dormant.” His eyelids fluttered and his cheeks grew ever redder. It was the gentlest expression he’d worn all morning, a vulnerable one. “This command is one I would shame myself to follow.”

The Warrior’s frown deepened. “What command.”

Those full lips quivered—perhaps in fear, perhaps in some kind of contemptible excitement. As he spoke the words, on some level he was imagining them coming to fruition. Yes, he imagined _quite deeply_ and realized the words should never be allowed to escape his mouth.

He opened his eyes. “To breed.”

The Warrior blinked, opened her eyes wider, found her mouth following suit. “You mean—you are—”

He buried his head in his hands. “Please don’t say it.”

“I scarcely thought it possible.”

“Spare me from your teasing.”

“You’re in—”

“No.”

“You’re in a—”

His fist fell to the desk. The rest of his body shook into the gesture. “My love,” he said, like he was on his death bed. “If I’m made to silence you with force, there shall be no hope for my dignity.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs, snickering. “Dignity? I dare say we’ve shared some wonderfully undignified moments together over the past moons.”

“Yes, and they’re returning now to haunt me.”

Recalling some of their past experiences, she decided “haunt” was certainly not the word that applied in her situation. She chuckled. “I should like very much to help you through these trying times.”

He laughed like it hurt him to do so. “Ease my suffering, you mean?”

“It’s the least I can do.” Lips twisting into a smile, she leaned forward onto her knees. “I wonder if we couldn’t make an opportunity of this?”

“Oh dear.”

“Yes. Let’s make it a proper test of your endurance.” She rubbed her hands over her bare legs.

Face flushed, he fixed a stray hair and looked away. “By now I imagine you’re quite familiar with my endurance.”

“But I’ve never _asked_ you to hold back, dear Exarch. I’m curious to see how you carry yourself in this state.”

He sighed her name. Was it amusement? The sound bore a sinister shade. “You may be surprised, my Warrior.”

"I love surprises, when they come from you." She scooted back onto the mattress proper and managed a coy expression. “Come here.”

The Exarch, despite his lofty title, turned his head away and walked as though under a spell, crawled onto the mattress and into her arms as though he were walking into his own grave. But once he was there, he melted. Sure, she felt his erection on her thigh, but what shocked her was how physically _hot_ he had become. Feverish. Burning. Even his crystal seared.

While they kissed, he bucked lightly against her, nowhere near her sex but needy nonetheless. A laugh spilled from her mouth, and she took the opportunity to push him back and straddle him. “Let me see if I can’t break you,” she said.

He said nothing with his lips but volumes with his mad eyes. The last time she’d seen him so serious was—well, a time she didn’t like to remember. But the force of his hands gripping her thighs brought her back to the present, where she was rubbing him between her legs.

He hummed her name at first contact and turned his head away. “Are you sure you want this…”

“I want you always.” Slicker, she set his tip at her clit and rolled her hips back and forth. “Can you not tell how much I want you?”

“You know not what you may evoke, Warrior…”

“But _you_ do, no? You have experienced this before?”

He grimaced. “I dealt with it much differently as a young man.”

That made her laugh. “Well, let’s make the most of this most curious affliction.” She lowered herself and felt him twitch inside her.

“Gods…you...” He craned his mouth open and closed. “Feel so good.”

“Mmm.” She traced the crystal of his chest and rode him. The fullness was pleasurable enough that when coupled with the idea of just how badly this man wanted her, she feared touching herself would spiral her far too soon. She wanted to draw out this experience...or at least outlast this man, who by his own admission was deep in lusty throes the likes of which she had never known.

But this she could not afford to tell him—which meant when he reached with his spoken hand to rub her clit, she had no defensible reason to tell him to stop. “Want you to feel good,” he said, misty gaze set between her legs.

The sensation caught her off guard, but she tried to hide it. With his fingers there, she wanted more and wanted it faster. “I feel plenty good, Raha.” Between the pleasure and the heat radiating from his skin, she was sweating. “And you? Do you want to give up?”

“Gods know I am capable of...of letting go even now.” He swallowed hard and met her gaze like she had a knife at his throat. “However, I will not.”

Leaning forward, she fingered his lip before pressing her own against him. He was so noble, even in this most vulnerable of positions. He spoke of his body’s command to breed, but now she battled her body’s command to tense and tense and ride and _release_.

The kiss was too much. Gods, she hoped he didn’t noticed her insides pulsing as she gently brought herself to orgasm, biting his lower lip in lieu of a pillow.

She rocked until the wave subsided. “I...I’m not tired of course,” she said before planting a thick kiss on the blue sliver at his neck. “But would you like to have your way for a while?”

“You think I’ll embarrass myself faster that way, do you?”

“Not at all.” Though her hips were motionless, his cock inside her was not. Each time he exhaled, she felt it throb. “I’m curious what a man in your _condition_ would do with me.”

The fire brewed in his eyes again. “There’s not much I wouldn’t.”

“Well?”

Cool air slipped from his mouth now. Shifting his legs slightly, he gripped her thighs and fucked her from below. She fell forward and balanced herself on the bed to weigh against the momentum at work between her legs. After a while, his crystal arm moved to her breast, than her nipple. He rolled it, tested it, then squeezed so hard she couldn’t help but whine. So fresh after her poorly hidden orgasm, the sensation tingled well throughout her body, down to her fingertips, her toes, even the end of her tail.

Closing her eyes, she focused wholly on the hardness hitting her. There _was_ something different about it, now. It’s not that he was bigger, more aroused, or physically different; his movements felt unhinged, like it was as natural for him to enter her as it was for fruit to surge and ripen, to grow sickly sweet and drip.

“Move,” he said after a while.

She meant to offer a few words of playful protest, but the thick scent of lust had her mind somewhere else entirely. Aching with want again, she slipped from him and wilted on the mattress.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled her by the waist and set her shoulders against the wall. After pausing for a tiny kiss, he drew her hips forward so he could slip back inside. She could do naught but huff and rear her head back into the wall, and all the while he drove in and out, panting against her neck. At first, he gripped her breasts and squeezed, toyed, rubbed—but soon he rode his hands down to her ass. Without missing a beat, he lifted her hips a few ilms and started moving her just as much as he moved himself. The angle was different—stronger—and though she wanted to reach out and grasp his neck or his chest, her arms grew limp as he found the spot that sent her every time.

She didn’t mean to come...but she did. Harder than she had before. And this time there was no hiding it.

“Hah…” He bit a smile into her neck.

With every thrust, he drew more wetness from her. Strong as she saw herself outside that room, Raha was her _lover_. She would let him hear her whimper.

“That is two for you now, isn’t it?” His hands were so warm, his breath so hot. “Ah, my friend. Do not presume I missed the signs of your first pleasure.”

Finally opening her eyes, she chanced to look down and watch him slip ever-determinedly into her pulsing entrance. Though he had indeed restrained himself thus far, seeing him pound her, use her—it made her feel _full_ and _needed_. It sent shivers down her spine to think he was not just making love but _breeding. Rutting._ Surely as she was a warrior, she was his _mate_. Better to stay quiet and stare than speak and show him how inarticulate his ministrations had made her.

Her name slipped from his mouth, a gruff whisper. “Have I proven myself?”

“Not...yet…” Her eyes rolled back.

“Hm.” He pulled out, gripped her rib cage, and eased her back down to the sex-soaked mattress. She curled her arms over her chest and let him rub his warm cock over her throbbing clit. “I will warn you again. I’ve more than enough stamina to continue until you’ve finished twice—thrice more, if you are stubborn enough.”

“I dare say...you are all talk...Raha...”

As he pushed himself in, his eyes gleamed like ghostfire. “Forgive me, but _you_ can hardly talk at all.”

Surging her hips up to accept him once more, she knew he was right. Her tongue slipped from her mouth with his first full stroke. “Fine.” She could have choked on pleasure. “Be finished then. But you’ll...you’ll not impress me.”

A growl warmed his throat. “Much as I want…” He leaned over her and a bead of sweat dripped from his shoulder to her collarbone. “Want to hear you say it...most of all.” Slower now, he fucked her—but deeper, too. Even the press of his balls against her body was enough to make her whine. “More than anything.”

The Warrior had stood defiant before all manner of foe, but here she had no choice but to admit: she had been wrong about the Exarch’s fortitude. Even in his beleaguered state, his devotion was greater than his instinct. She clasped her hands behind his burning neck and pulled him closer. “Want you so bad,” she said. This man. He had the right.

“Yes,” he said, forehead to forehead. She could feel his eyelashes on her brow. “Give in. _Command me, Warrior_.”

She felt as though some great power had fallen into her lap. A bit embarrassed, she realized she was staring at this lust-laden man the same way she beheld the Mother Crystal, perhaps even more reverently. So, without further delay, she swallowed hard, hitched her legs behind his hips and squeezed. “Give it to me.”

Flesh to flesh, he dug in deep and groaned. Heat—his heat—poured into her, seeped to her thighs as he sank in again and again...and _again_ , like he’d waited another century to give her this orgasm. And even as she froze in pleasure, he took only a moment to catch his breath before rolling her onto her side and hanging her leg over his shoulder.

“Raha,” she said, tiny voice muffled by the pillow.

He grit his teeth and willed his cock back to her throbbing sex. “More,” he said, hardly opening his lips. He barely sounded like himself. And even in his head he struggled to recognize the sound of his own voice. Another force compelled him, a force he now internalized. _Who am I to pretend I didn’t want this all along?_

Perhaps a minute later he picked up the pace and leaked again into her entrance, already slick with her liquids and his seed. He sheathed himself deep within and held the position this time, took in every vibration of her sex as she took in every hot onze he delivered. When he finally pulled back, she shuddered and cried out.

“I—I am surprised!”

He fucked her once, with a thrust so committed the bed knocked against the wall. “Shh.”

“You fuck me like this...and...and shush me?”

Another bead of sweat fell from his brow, furled in something almost apologetic. “I told you I would shame myself.” His eyes popped open. “Is this still what you want?”

“You have more to give?”

He licked his fingertip and stared like an animal. "This is a biological trait meant to sustain entire tribes, not a single warrior's whims."

She blinked. "But I am no mere warrior. I am the Warrior of Light and Darkness."

His eyelids lowered and she could have sworn the corner of his lip ticked up. "That you may be. But if you'll have me...know you are taking on a historical burden carried not by one partner but by many.”

"Raha…” Heavy breaths poured from her mouth. “I've felt the weight of two worlds on my shoulders."

"Good," he said coming forward and pushing down on her shoulders. "That's a reasonable place to begin comparisons."

“Show me,” she said, turning her head but keeping her eyes locked on his familiar, unfamiliar face. “Show me, Raha.”

Exhaling, he spread her legs with a hand on each of her thighs. For the first time in centuries he forgot everything about destiny, duty, and fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Uh. Ahem...
> 
> Time for round two I guess.


	2. You Never Forget Your First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring the WoL from Things You Keep to Yourself, and not an ounce of dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can get through all my memes in the first half I promise there is meaningful porn.
> 
> Also this is NOT CANON to TYKTY I promise!!

Exams were over, Bas’ir was in good standing with the masters that mattered, and for the first time in many moons he woke up with exactly nothing to do. And godsdammit, that kind of lazy late awakening was precisely the context in which a man might find quick pleasure in his own hand.

What he didn’t expect was the lingering trouble that followed.

Sure, it had been...a while. Raha, open as he was to nights of pleasure, was a most studious scholar, and Bas’ir, though not quite as dedicated, knew his limits well enough to know that he ought spend more time with his books. And so he had. For weeks, Late Allagan literature and philosophy pressured the free spaces in his mind usually occupied by leftover adolescent lust.

So perhaps that was the reason he felt compelled to start over once he’d come? To try again? As though his first climax wasn’t enough?

Bas’ir slipped his legs off the bed and looked with some embarrassment at his persistent erection. It felt like he’d never touched himself at all.

Once he’d hobbled into the shower and placed himself under a soberingly cool stream of water, he realized there was a pit in his stomach, and not a familiar one. His skin, even beneath the icy flow, was hot to the touch. A fever? He must be imagining things. A trick of the mind. A mistaken thought. Growing up under the distant guidance of his mother had made him a bit of a hypochondriac. This truth he had long ago realized, but his heart beat nonetheless.

Before he left the shower, he leaned against the wall and drew out a second orgasm, just as unsatisfying as the first. Before he even stopped stroking, the questions began: _what did I eat? With whom have I fraternized? Am I contagious? Is this affliction fatal? Who in Seven Hells can I ask for help?_

And then he held the worst question of all between his teeth:

_Have I infected Raha…?_

No answers came, but another sickening wave of arousal did. Turning off the water was the wrong idea; as soon as the stream dwindled into an unsteady drip, the weight in his groin became so unbearable he cried out and nearly lost his balance. All he could do was grip himself again. Somewhere mid-stroke his thoughts caught up with his hand.

_This isn’t right. In fact, this is very wrong._

He tried to focus on anything but sex. The gurgle of the drain at his back. The cool water at his toes. The dark fur flat and damp on his tail. The book he had skimmed the night before. The uninspired salad he had stomached. But despite the decidedly unappetizing images in his head, he found himself crouching in the tub of the shower and fucking the ring of his hand with fresh sweat on his brow.

_Have I discovered...some kind of new disease?_

He curled his tail around his thigh and tensed. If he could just come one more time...

_Gods are they...are they going to name it after me?_

Thoughts like that were _not_ going to help him get there. He didn’t mean to, but he imagined himself breathing in the scent of another scholar, perhaps the musk of a man who, hypothetically, spent a portion of his days at the archery range, honing his muscles so he might someday hold another man down and teach him a thing or two about precision.

Well, with that train of thought it wasn’t long before Bas’ir lost track of how many times he had peaked. Eventually, he did not so much _come_ as he did shiver. With his heel on the lip of the tub and his tail curled up to his neck, he spent the better part of a bell frowning, breathing heavily, and spurting periodically onto his chest...and it was never much, if anything. The voice in the back of his head started offering well meant pleas to the gods. _I pray you deliver me from this horrendous affliction and in exchange—I shall become a better man. A kind man. The kind of man people miss when he’s not shown up for breakfast._

Raha knocked on the door to Bas’ir’s quarters with his knee. In his left hand, he held a bowl of warm oats colored with chopped rolanberries. In his right, a jug of orange juice, perhaps three quarters full. “Have you risen, my friend?” he asked, hinting his ears forward. “You are easily missed when so few have deigned to linger.”

The sound that beckoned from beyond the door was not a flattering one: a squeak, a choked scream. Raha frowned and wondered if perhaps his friend had had another nightmare. Scooting closer, he nudged the door again. “Bas’ir?”

Bas’ir was frozen, his hands stiff and fingers caught in claws. He pulled himself to a standing position by grabbing the edge of the tub, knees so shaky he had winced in preparation for a fall. After tugging the curtain shut, he started the water again and tried to make himself somewhat presentable. As he scrubbed, he ached. The skin of his lip felt raw from where he’d held his fangs so many times. Raha would wait, he thought. Raha was stubborn. The Keeper would have enough time to steel himself for whatever would come next. _If I tell anyone, it ought to be him. But why should I tell anyone at all?_

Raha had finished another quarter of the jug by the time he heard his name. It was a hoarse, cold sound that called him, like that of a man who had lived in an isolated cave for moons. The idea of Bas’ir emerging from such a place with long hair and a tattered old shawl brought a smile to Raha’s face. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, standing. “I brought you breakfast and could not help but have some for myself, what with how long I’ve been kept waiting.”

“Don’t you dare come in yet,” the tired voice said. “I am going to unlock the door.”

His tail twitched. “Okay?”

“Kindly. Wait at least 30 seconds before entering.”

“May I ask why?”

“...no.” A click. “Your time begins now.”

“My hands are full. Won’t you at least crack the door?”

“No.”

Bas’ir slinked back into the bathroom, closed the door behind him, and beat his head into it, gripping the towel around his waist so hard his fingers would cramp by the time he let go. _He’ll simply leave,_ he thought. But a part of him hoped he would not. A part of him needed him to stay, and not just the part that wanted to fuck him into next semester.

Raha went through the trouble of setting the orange juice down, opening the door, retrieving the jug, entering the room, and so on. The sole source of real light came through the blinds, but once Raha had set breakfast on Bas’ir’s desk he spotted a sliver of brightness leaking beneath the bathroom door. Light on his feet, he approached and tapped at the handle, knowing his friend must be on the other side. “Is everything all right?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What can I do to help?”

Wide-eyed and grinding his teeth, Bas’ir pressed harder against the wood. _Bend over._ “I...I’m not sure.”

“Are you...in pain? Have you need of medicine?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Won’t you come out?”

Bas’ir opened his mouth to refuse, but the words never materialized. Instead he curled his fingers around the doorknob and savored the cool beneath his burning skin. “You...you promise you won’t make fun of me? Tease me?”

“I promise.”

The Keeper puffed the air out of his chest and turned the doorknob. Before he had even _seen_ his friend he could _smell_ him and all his charms. He felt his pupils dilate and clenched his stomach as another rush of needfulness pulsed in his center. “ _Oh,_ ” he said, for it was all he could say at first. “Oh, this was a mistake.”

Raha saw the man clench his eyes shut and lilt like a blossom in the breeze. “Are you all right?”

Bas’ir blindly batted at his friend’s hands. “Please, don’t touch me, I—”

The Seeker ignored the fact that it was _Bas’ir_ who had reached out to _him_. Much more compelling was that unmistakable calling—that thick, hungry scent he’d felt on his own skin more than a time or two before. The realization sent him back a step or two. “By the Twelve. You’re—”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He fell to his knees and in so doing lost his grip on the towel. Even as he wept into his hands, his arousal stood resolute.

Raha raised an eyebrow and reared his head back. “You don’t?”

“I woke up and I—I did something and— _gods_ it’s all my fault.” He was breathing like someone had told him the world was about to crash upon his pale shoulders. Not even the tip of his tail was twitching. A posture of utter defeat.

This, Raha decided with wide eyes, was a man telling the truth. How it was possible for a Miqo'te of his years to have gone so long without a heat, he could not be certain. “Bas’ir,” he said, crouching. “This is truly your first time? Experiencing this?” He set a hand on his shoulder and felt the radiating warmth.

Bas’ir winced and wiped his tears on his arm. “Experiencing _what?_ ”

Raha’s ears pinned back and blush popped up on his cheeks. Bas’ir wasn’t just telling the truth. He was being more honest with himself, and with Raha, than perhaps he’d been his whole life. And that look of insecure sincerity on his impish face was… _so fucking endearing._

“Good gods,” Raha said, standing. “Very well. My friend, you will simply have to trust in my assessment of your condition.”

“My _condition?_ ” Bas’ir thought he might pass out. He rubbed his forehead like he was trying to start a fire.

The Seeker extended a hand. “Come.”

“I _did_. Gods, did I ever.” Lurching forward, he shivered. “Please, Raha, I’d not like to think on it any further.”

“No, not—” An exasperated sigh. “Rise! Follow me before you drive yourself half mad.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” He shook into his hands and wiped his wet cheeks. Why couldn’t he have been alone? Why couldn’t he have spent the day—week?— _month?_ —wasting away on his lonesome?

“A fair reaction. But I assure you many have been through the same.”

He nearly choked. “What?!”

“Now come.”

Once Raha had pulled his friend to his bed, he sat him on the edge and smoothed him out, positioned him modestly, ran his hands down his arms, bopped about like he was checking for wounds.

“What do you mean,” the Keeper mumbled, crossing his arms. “Who precisely has ‘been through the same?’”

Raha uncrossed them. “Sit still. I’m trying to distract you.”

“From what?”

A light flick to his sensitive tip seemed to shed light on the scholar’s intentions.

“Gah!”

“Let me evaluate you before we continue.” The skin of his abdomen was hottest, as far as Raha could tell. During his own heats, he experienced the same sensation. In a more private location, it would have done them well to open a window, but Bas’ir lived on the first floor. Even with scholars away for the holidays, it was not unlikely that someone should pass by and glance in the wrong direction...assuming one of their other senses didn't tip them off before they were within sight.

Bas’ir clenched his fingers into the sweat of his palms. Another bargain manifested. _Just let me bury my face in his hair. That’s all I want. That will be enough._ This voice in his head—it wasn’t one he knew, and not one he’d like to. “What in Seven Hells is wrong with me…”

“Do not despair.” Raha set his hands on Bas’ir’s shoulders and pursed his lips with a staccato nod. “Congratulations, Bas’ir. You are in heat.”

Nausea nearly overcame him. The only thing that kept him from falling backwards was his companion’s grip. “In heat?” A choking, starving question.

“I’ve never heard of a Keeper going through one...but I am certain there is literature for it.”

“A heat? What what. What is this? Is this some kind of curse?” Naked and shaking, he looked to Raha like a begging pauper to a benevolent prince. The wetness of his hair made it look darker, and thus his already pale skin lighter. 

“It can be.” The corners of his lips twisted up, and his eyelids hung low. “But your faithful friend is here.”

He looked to the window, half-expecting to see the snickering face of Menphina Herself. “My _faithful friend_ had better explain before I find a creative way to project my soul into the Lifestream.”

“There is no need for that.” Smiling, Raha rubbed the back of his friend’s neck. “Are you willing to put your faith in me?”

_I’m willing to put my…_ His bottom lip shook. “No.”

The answer didn’t dent Raha's smile. There was something fatherly about the way he exhaled and raised his eyebrows. He moved to sit next to Bas’ir, and the bed shifted with his added weight, shifted the scholars shoulder to shoulder. The Keeper ran his nose along the curve of Raha’s bicep. “I don’t want to die like this…”

“There, there.” He bit his lip to keep himself from laughing and rubbed his hands over the shivering body at his side. “We shall get through this together. Would you like to eat?”

“Who can eat at a time like this?” He turned away and hissed. “All I want is...all I want to do is…”

“Breed. Oh, I know very well.”

“ _Breed?_ ” A new wave of embarrassment surged in his chest...but his cock throbbed nonetheless. "You dare phrase it thusly."

Raha nodded and tried to ignore his friend’s desire. “Of course. It’s a biological mechanism meant to preserve, to invigorate tribes, no? A Nunh cannot hope to fulfill his obligations without—"

“I don’t want to preserve any tribes...I’d be a godsawful father…”

Raha pursed his lips, blinked. “Strange as it is you’ve not experienced this before...I find it even stranger that the very concept eluded you.

“Well, forgive me for living a sheltered youth!”

“I’d like to say I was 16, perhaps 17 my first time...yet here you are nearly a decade beyond that.”

Bas’ir narrowed his eyes. “I’m 23.”

“Of course, ‘tis customary for any Tia to endure the condition alone.” He tapped his lower lip. “After all, being in the presence of anyone, male or female, biologically primed for breeding is like to awaken the same condition in potential partners. In a tribal setting, that would create obvious problems...unjust competition, hostilities between otherwise level-headed men…” He took Bas’ir in his arm again and nuzzled at his nape. “But since we are _always_ level-headed men...and certainly not beholden to any tribal custom...”

Bas’ir bit his lip and watched Raha’s hand creep over his thighs. A secret beg was born with the beat of his heart.

_Please._

"It is important that you ask me for help, should you find yourself wanting," Raha said, slipping his hand between the Keeper's legs and drawing closer to his center. "As is always proper. Personally, I'm more than willing."

"Wanting," Bas'ir managed with heavy eyes. He edged his head backwards, his hips forward. "I am nothing but wanting."

Raha set his hand behind Bas'ir's neck and guided him down to the mattress. "The word, then. Give it to me."

"Yes. Yes, just do it. Do something."

He squeezed but did not otherwise move.

The Keeper opened his eyes wide and whined. "You are cruel. To embarrass me so and leave me like this. My _faithful friend_."

"The word."

The pressure grew, teased as he felt. Those mismatched eyes upon him could have wrung anything from his lips, given enough time. But he was not yet broken. "Oh, come now. I have suffered enough."

"Oh?" Raha cheated even closer, so close Bas'ir could feel the heat of his hand less than an ilm from the tender skin of his balls.

And he held firm. Bas'ir couldn't edge himself forward, force the contact he wanted. He itched like a man with a knife at his neck. Once, he thumped his tail on the bed and groaned, covering his face with his hands. If Raha had seen it, he'd have seen pain and anticipation widening his eyes like saucers. "Please."

With the look of a predator, Raha cupped the man's groin and pressed, rubbed as he would a delicate artifact. His other hand danced from Bas'ir's neck to his chest. To be so hot but not sweating, so feverish but sick only with lust...the Seeker had experienced it before, but always alone. To see it on another made him nigh giddy. He was useful. He was wanted. Spying the liquid at the Bas’ir’s tip, he lowered his eyelids and remembered how sensitive he felt during his own desirous spells. In the end, he decided to use his mouth anyway.

Bas’ir arched his back and clawed into the bed. The pull of those full lips was _too much_. All this time he had pictured himself gripping Raha’s hips and riding into him, but at that touch, intense as it was, he knew precisely what he needed. “Stop,” he said, quiet but firm. His chin was touching his sternum, he’d contorted himself so. “Stop. I want you...inside…”

Raha’s pupils dilated.

Bas’ir pushed his friend away and turned himself around on the bed, flattened his shaking tail against his thigh. The pressure, the desire was so great he didn't even blush at the thought of practically presenting himself. “Please. I’ve tried everything else. I need something more. Need…you…” He winced with his face pressed against the mattress for having let the truth slip out before making Raha work for it.

It was the first time any man had pushed Raha away from a dick, but the context was far more enticing than a more traditional reaction. He rubbed his forehead. "You are well and truly lewd."

He thwapped his tail against his leg and buried his face. "Said...wouldn't tease…"

"Well, I've _got_ to tease you now," he said squeezing the other man's ass. "Lest this be painful."

Eyes clenched shut, Bas'ir stretched his left arm and pointed at the night stand. "Top drawer."

“Oh I know.”

“ _Go._ ”

He went. While Bas’ir waited, he tried to think of anything that would keep him from bursting at entry. _Remember that time you stole a bottle of dye in Gridania? Remember how you tried to hide it in your coat? Remember how the merchant grabbed you by the ear when he saw it through the hole in your pocket? Remember how—_

Raha was back with the bottle. He circled his wet thumb around Bas’ir’s entrance and ran his free hand down his tail.

“Gods,” the Keeper said, clenching his hands tight. It was the kind of test that made him want to let go, to vomit the full breadth of his feelings.

“Ready?” Raha was practically purring.

“Yes.”

The Seeker wrapped an arm around Bas’ir’s legs, avoiding his arousal, and leaned in to nip at his tail. In went the first finger, his index.

The Keeper shook and sang. How excellent it was to have a friend to help him in his time of need. A very good friend. Such a wonderful friend, willing to suck the base of his tail like that, to stretch him so responsibly. He would need to be ready for something bigger. Before long, Raha wasn’t even moving his hand; Bas’ir kept thrusting back on his own, grunting with every impact. “More,” he said.

“Okay, okay.” A warm smile, punctuated by a tiny kiss along his spine. When he added the next finger, he moved his other arm to hold Bas’ir’s chest. One hand felt him from the inside. The other tasted the hot beating of his heart.

Bas’ir started rocking the bed. Something hard clacked behind him and his ears flicked back. He reared up with wide yellow eyes. “What—what was that?!”

Raha urged him back down and pursed his smiling lips. “Relax. You knocked the bottle off.” Thumbing above his entrance, Raha pushed deeper. “Stay still and let me please you.”

“I was scared. Thought someone had—”

“We’re alone.” He dragged his spare hand over the pale back before him and pressed between his shoulder blades. “Relax.”

Bas’ir swallowed hard and rolled his head around, tried to focus. Tried to resist the urge to touch himself. It wasn’t so hard when he remembered what he’d done in the shower.

Raha exhaled and pressed a third finger inside. “It’s funny, Bas’ir…” His voice was quiet, sultry.

“Mm?”

“Were someone to interrupt us, I expect you’d be unable to contain your excitement.”

“Ha...ha...perish the thought.” But it was true. Bas’ir thanked the gods now, that he could be with a man who knew him so well, who knew exactly what he wanted. Those fingers curled inside him, hit him again and again. Tears burned into the blanket. Tears of pleasure, heavy, grateful tears. The muscles of his legs and tail tensed. His body restrained a tantrum of want; if he hadn't resisted he'd have bucked so hard the fingers would've slipped out. And he did _not_ want that.

When he finally came, he groaned from the bottom of his lungs and pushed back into Raha’s hand. His cock bobbed with each thick burst. It was the first time he’d felt something even vaguely resembling relief since he’d risen.

“That’s it,” Raha said, running his hand over the Keeper’s ass, kissing his back. “I trust you have room to go?”

“Yes,” Bas’ir said. No hesitance. No pretense. No attempt to conceal the effects of his lingering orgasm. His voice shook under its electric weight, and his upper half deflated onto the bed when Raha eased his fingers out. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll stop for only a moment.”

“No. I’m ready now. Please.”

“Patience!” Raha pulled his shirt off, threw it to the side, unbuckled his trousers. He’d been straining against them for more than a while. The bottle was just under the bed. His fingers slipped trying to get it open. "You say these things like I'm not eager to get on it with it."

Bas'ir whined. "T...tell me you are."

"I am very much so."

Whether it was the truth or not, Bas'ir did not begin to contemplate. All he knew was the idea of Raha actually wanting this—wanting to fuck him, to please him—not just as a favor, not just for utility—gods, it felt good in his chest.

Raha freed and slicked himself, kept stroking as he guided Bas'ir's hips down to an appropriate height. The Keeper spread his legs so far that the tip of his dick was touching the stained mattress, but he didn't seem to mind. Far from it. Gritting his teeth, Raha pressed his tip into that wanting hole. He wanted to go slowly, to adjust to the tightness, but Bas’ir backed up and took him in, his fingers clutching the same blanket that muffled his moans.

"Raha," he said, turning his head to the side. “I...I would do anything. I’d do anything for you right now.”

"Maybe you will." He smiled and leaned forward, let Bas'ir's warmth melt across his chest as he brought himself deeper. "I'm so _glad_ you are in heat."

He closed his eyes and focused on the length, stretching him, filling him. Just the hint of a question remained. "Glad…?"

"I've wanted to fuck you harder than I think you’re able to manage." He punctuated the thought with a stiff thrust and a grunt. He was fully sheathed and breathing hard because of it. “Under normal circumstances.”

“I can handle it.” He curled his tail around Raha’s back and squeezed. “Now and ever.”

“Hmph.” A devil shined in his smile. “We’ll see about that.”

___________

Bas’ir showered on his own and managed to endure the process without dwelling on his nether regions or his shame. For a while after, he stared at himself in the mirror and tried to remind himself of himself. The markings framing his nose. Yellow eyes. Thin lips. _This is me_ , he thought. _Not my desire_. When he emerged, he kept his towel around his waist and sat on the edge of the bed with his legs together and his tail tucked close. Raha was sitting at his desk wearing only his smallclothes. He spun around and grinned with tired eyes. "I trust you are feeling better?"

Bas'ir, realizing the Seeker had taken time to change his sheets, blushed and looked to the side, rubbing his arms. "Bit cold."

"A strange phenomenon." He stood and made for the closet in all his mostly naked glory. “There is a cup on the desk for you. Fresh tea.”

“...thank you.” He took it and sniffed the rim. Herbal, but he hadn’t the nose to glean anything more specific. Where had Raha gotten tea?

The Seeker was shuffling through something. “I’m no biologist, but I’ve always been curious about the extra physiological effects of a heat. Of course, the origin of its name is no surprise. By this point I’m certain you have an intimate knowledge of the pure warmth it engenders. What I wonder is—”

“I...still feel sick,” Bas’ir said. “If sick is the proper term.”

“Perhaps.” Raha returned with another towel and set it over Bas’ir’s shoulders, rubbed behind his ear. “This better?”

The Keeper smiled and felt flowers, not fire, in his belly; he stared down into his cup to obscure just how much better he felt. “Some.”

“That is good.” After planting a little kiss at the crown of his head, Raha swept back to the chair, keeping his tail reigned in a bit closer than he would have otherwise. He didn’t want to risk setting Bas’ir off again with a suggestive flick. “You ought to spend the rest of your day relaxing, perhaps reading...being sure to drink plenty of water and eat if you can manage.”

“If I had my way, I’ll have nothing in my mouth for a _not_ insignificant period of time.” He rubbed his palm on the side of the cup. “I can’t finish this. That much I can tell you already.”

Raha stared and brought his hands together. “Promise me you will try.”

“I can’t promise—”

“These things take a toll on your body. Poor as you may feel now, you will find yourself worse off in the coming days if you fail to take care of yourself in the present.”

He straightened his posture. “I beg your pardon. You said days?”

His eyes drifted down to the wooden floor. “Could be, by the time nature gives you reprieve.”

“Say it isn’t so…” Lip quivering, he set the cup on the ground and held his face in his hands. Blood rushed through his ears. If he spoke, he knew he would start crying. He could feel it. He hoped Raha thought he was just being dramatic, that he wasn’t afraid in earnest. But he was.

“Bas’ir,” Raha said, after a while. “Is it all right if I touch you? As a friend, of course.”

The Keeper hid a dry sob with a crooked laugh. “Touch me? Hmph.” _Please?_ “You think you can get away with such salacious behavior?”

“I mean only to comfort you. If you’ll have what I can offer.”

Bas’ir peeked through his fingers. Raha was beautiful, sincere even when his sincerity was deflected with sass. He sighed and leaned back on his hands, stared at the ceiling instead. “I would...like that very much, actually.” Chin up, his eyes flickered back to Raha. “Of course, my condition is behind this sentimentality, I assure you.”

He smiled and stood. “I understand.”

“You had better.”

“Are you certain you can’t eat?” He settled against the bed frame and beckoned.

Bas’ir scooted back and leaned into him. This kind of warmth he was far more fond of. “I am certain.”

“You will regret this, but I’ll not force you.” He set his arm around the Keeper’s shoulders and nuzzled him ear to ear. He felt softer than he usually did. Less prickly. More open to the kind of affection Raha was most glad to give. Sure, even after his shower he reeked of sex, but that was no daunting obstacle. The way the Keeper had latched onto him was precious. It made him want to be strong.

When they had both settled into agreeable positions beneath the clean covers, Bas’ir rubbed his eyes. “If I fall asleep will you play with my hair?”

Raha squeezed his hand before letting go to adjust. “At least until I fall asleep myself.”

“Have you no other plans for the day?”

“Well, I’d like to eat something other than oats and rolanberries, but far be it from me to abandon you in your time of particular need.” The back of Bas’ir’s neck was still hot. Raha ran his fingernails over the soft little hairs and relished the long sigh he won from his lover. “I find myself uniquely suited to aid you in these trying times.”

Bas’ir furrowed his brow. _What an embarrassing thing to say._ But this man was so comfortable, so soothing, so gentle when he needed to be. So intense when he needn’t be gentle. Bas’ir would forgive him. He would forgive him for anything, any embarrassment, any transgression. And he would fall asleep happy on his chest.

“Thank you, Raha.”

_______________

They slept together into the evening. Bas’ir kept dreaming of emptying himself over and over again, of grabbing and thrusting and needing, until finally he woke up wiping tears from his eyes. Everything warmed him, the soft of the blanket, the restrictive folds in the fabric of his smallclothes, the cedar scent of Raha’s hair wafting over his shoulder. Gasping, Bas’ir let himself roll over and hold the man. He squeezed and whimpered until a groan came from the Seeker’s chest.

“Hm? Bas’ir?” He cupped his friend’s clammy fingers in his palm. “Are you all right?”

“Please.” The words melted between Raha’s shoulder blades. A voice beat into his back like the wings of a butterfly. “H-help me.”

Raha grunted and rolled over. Bas’ir pressed his nose to his sternum, clamped his fingers down on his collarbone. Not entirely awake, Raha rubbed the back of his friend’s neck. “I’d be happy to help you.”

Bas’ir cried out. “This is the worst—this is the stupidest thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“I am sorry.” He ran his fingernails from Bas’ir’s hairline to the crown of his head, drawing out a whine. This man, this creature of coiled energy—he was vulnerable and wanting. “I...pray I am able to help you make the most of it until you’re well again.”

Bas’ir sniffled and heaved in and out, two quick breaths before quiet fell upon him. “Raha,” he said. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Just tell me once.” He fingered the Keeper’s chin until their eyes met, then let his thumb rest at his lower lip. “What would you have me do? I will do it.”

He blinked hard, like he was swallowing a bitter pill. “Just kiss me. Kiss me and I’ll handle it from there, if you’ll...if you’ll have me.”

“Happily.”

It started as one of those careless kisses where morning breath didn’t matter and teeth found teeth by mistake. Raha more or less dragged Bas’ir’s head close enough for contact, but after a few lusty moments, the Keeper hitched his leg around Raha’s hips and started grinding onto him. That’s what finally widened Raha’s eyes, set his own lust alight—that this man wanted something, wanted _him_ so badly he’d make a fool of himself like that—his eyelids fluttered down. He let himself wilt back onto the mattress, let Bas’ir push him onto his back.

The Keeper broke the kiss and sat up. “I’m sorry for waking you this way.” Like a frenzied metronome his tail danced left and right, tapping Raha’s knees.

“There is worse news to wake up to.” He moved to free himself, but Bas’ir pulled down the band of his smallclothes and shifted his hips forward, his mouth open and hungry. Raha was so engrossed by the way the Keeper tongued at his own glinting fangs that he didn’t catch his intent, couldn’t stifle his surprised moan when he started rubbing their cocks together, first with one hand, then with both.

The sound Raha made stoked the fire in Bas’ir’s chest. Even as he stroked, he couldn’t keep his hips still. How they wanted to help him _enter_ something, _fill_ something—he was disgusted with himself but rocked anyway and encouraged the building pressure. “Raha.”

“Nnh?” The red eye opened.

He tilted his head back and let it roll to the side. “Can you reach the...the…”

Raha strained his arm grasping for the bottle on the nightstand, but before he caught it with his middle finger, before he tapped it just a bit too hard and knocked it to the ground—Bas’ir was spilling onto his chest and jerking his hips so hard the bed shook against the wall.

“Oh _Seven Hells_...”

The Seeker’s breath caught at the warm drops painting his skin, but he kept his eyes planted on his lover’s face. The twitch of his dark eyebrows knitting in time with pleasure held him so completely, he couldn’t bring himself to quip on the Keeper’s lack of stamina. Of course, he had no room to judge, having been subject to the same biological conditions.

Eventually, Bas’ir eased back on Raha’s thighs, let his hand slip away, and bent his neck to face the ceiling. “Gods, let it end…”

“Are you all right?”

Yellow eyes ticked down to meet the Seeker. He was breathing through his mouth. “You’ve been through this before?”

He nodded. “As I told you.”

“How many times…?”

“...well, I can’t quite—”

“How many times did you have to…” Bas’ir turned away, but there was no hiding the red of his cheeks. “Did you have to…”

“Oh.”

“I just want to sleep.”

“Depending on how you’re feeling after—”

He shook his head and held his hands wide. “I want to sleep. But I _want_ to fuck. I _need_ to fuck. _You_. Do you understand?”

Raha blinked hard to keep himself from cracking a grin. “Oh, I understand. And more than that—I am happy to oblige you.”

The bed shifted as Bas’ir leaned over the side to retrieve the lost bottle. “Sure, but how many times?”

“As many as you need, my friend.”

“How can you know you’ll hold up?”

He rolled his shoulder blades back on the mattress and smiled like he had no secrets. “I expect you’d do the same, in my position. I promise I’ll ask far more of you than you’ll ask of me, should the opportunity arise.” And it would. Soon, he thought.

Bottle found, Bas’ir returned to Raha and fit between his legs, urged his thighs up. The yellow of his eyes glowed like candlelight as he twisted off the top and wet his hand. In his haste, he spilled some on the sheets, some on his lover’s thigh. But it got where it mattered.

So did his fingers.

Raha sighed and put his arms behind his head. “I can bite the pillow, if you like.”

“You’re telling me to...just—”

“If you like.” A tricky grin. “You seem awfully impatient, despite the fact that moments ago you—”

He chose to push two more fingers inside. “Seems _rude_ to enter a man before he’s begging for it.”

“You have my leave to do as you like.” He found himself incapable of closing his mouth all the way as Bas’ir kept on with his ministrations. “It is, after all, _your_ heat.” For now.

He grunted. There was much he wanted to do. But most of all, he wanted to kiss his friend again. Kiss him hard. He kept fingering his ass but leaned forward and brought their lips together, too. To his surprise, Raha wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled, pulled them even closer, gasped into his mouth and bit.

Bas’ir bit right back and dug his nails into Raha’s arm. For an instant, he thought he might be able to come by pondering that moment just a bit longer. _He wants me. He wants me despite it all._

Bas’ir broke the kiss and slipped his fingers out. It didn’t take much for him to slip his cock _in_. Raha hadn’t even caught his breath before the Keeper was driving into him with his back straight and his eyes closed. Yes, Raha thought. Most certainly a heat. He could have diagnosed it with that lust-laden look on his face alone, with his eyes mostly closed and glazed over, lips wet and wanting. Obviously a heat. Powerfully a heat.

And it felt _good_ to be on the receiving end. The physical sensation was enough to send him spiraling, but Raha’s heart skipped a beat when he thought of how much pleasure he was capable of bringing a person—especially a person he cared about. His body could put a look like that on a man. _Gods_ it was arousing to think on.

Bas’ir slowed his pace but fucked harder. When he looked down, he saw Raha’s red face and busy hands. He was stroking himself with one, biting the other. “Are you all right?” Bas’ir said.

“Ha...are you?”

He knitted his eyebrows like someone had picked a needle into his skin. “Want you so terribly.”

“In your condition—”

“No. Always.” He groaned and brought his torso forward, set a hand on either side of the Seeker. Pounded his ass.

Raha blushed and looked away. “No, I mean...in your condition I suspect you’ll find great satisfaction in…” _Gods_ it was hard to talk while getting railed like that. “In coming inside someone.”

The thought slowed his his hips down but made his mind race. Raha was right. This was, after all, a _biological imperative_. His blood told him to _breed_. It didn’t care that he was fucking another man. All it knew was _body. Entrance. Enter._

It boiled him so completely, he failed to notice the start of Raha’s own orgasm. A steady stream came from his tip and landed on his chest, his neck. Bas’ir didn’t realize until the Seeker called his name and pulled him closer. By then, thrusting was too much and not enough. Instead, Bas’ir pushed himself to Raha’s deepest point and sank his teeth into the skin of his neck. The Keeper felt _everything_ , every breath, every strain from that point of tightness. Spit dripped from his lip and ghosts danced before his eyes. Fucking him, feeling him like that—it was the most important thing in the world. Nothing else mattered. It was written in his veins. Yes, _breed,_ and if you can’t breed _fuck_.

Finally, without moving or shaking, he groaned and leaked what more he could muster into his friend’s heat before collapsing, wet-mouthed onto his chest. He was dead weight.

Raha flopped his arms to the side and smiled, dreamy eyed. “My, my goodness. I have never seen you cross your eyes before.”

Bas’ir mumbled something unintelligible. His mouth sat at Raha’s nipple.

The Seeker pulled his arms up and stroked his hair. “You handle yourself very well.”

“Ugh…”

“I say this in earnest. You are coping most effectively with something strange and embarrassing having been thrust upon you at an unexpected age.”

“I’m 23.”

“You are 23.” A pat and a kiss. “Would you mind...furnishing me with a towel?”

“Raha…” He rolled off the man and onto his back. “Forgive me, but...could you take care of it yourself this time?”

He pursed his lips and glanced at the constellation on his chest. “Of course.”

“I feel as though...can’t move.”

Raha slipped off the bed with an awkward lean. Gravity could be unkind. “I understand.”

“Just want to sleep. Die, perhaps...”

“We shall see how you feel in the morning.” _And how I feel._ For he could feel something already.

_____________

Bas’ir _did_ feel better in the morning. He was on his side facing the window when he woke. It couldn’t have been very late; only a little sunlight leaked through his drapes, drawing a sort of muted blue square on the wooden floor. The halls beyond his room were quiet, and the gentle rock of the bed reminded him of pleasant evenings spent sharing a hammock meant for one…

He opened his eyes wide. Why was the bed rocking.

“Raha?”

Raha had one hand behind his head. The other worked diligently at his member. His legs were taut with tension, but he wore a friendly face. “Oh good,” he said, smiling wider. “You’re awake. I was afraid I’d have to start in earnest without you.”

“Start…? Start what? Are you…” The fur of his tail stood on end. “You’re—”

“Tell me you aren’t surprised, Bas’ir.” He let go of his cock to crawl to and straddle his companion. He frowned. “I am fully capable of dealing with this on my own, should you require time for yourself. You needn’t give a reason.”

Bas’ir eyed the offer bobbing between his legs. “Oh dear.”

“I told you spending time with one in this condition was like to awaken the same. Though I suspected—”

“Yes.”

“Hmm?”

“Yes. Fuck me, touch me. What have you.” He wriggled beneath him. “First, get this godsdamned blanket off of me. My skin is on fire.”

He blinked and ripped the covers off. “Of course.”

“When we’re done we _must_ find something to eat. And not what you brought. Something better.”

“Are you sure you’d not like to eat first? I can only imagine how starving you are.”

“Fool,” he said, pointing at Raha’s cock. “I want _that_ far more than I want anything in my mouth.”

“If you take no issue, I’ll not be putting it in your mouth, but your—”

“Raha.” Bas’ir propped himself up on his elbow and drew his fingers across the markings on the Seeker’s face. If he parted his lips, anything could have poured out. Confessions. Curses. A kiss manifested instead, and with that he communicated what he had meant to: _just have me_.

And he did. Raha treated him with rough and tender touches in equal measure. Perhaps because he had lived it before, the Seeker was more patient in his desire, though far more demanding. He had Bas’ir ride him until they’d both come, then he flipped him over and took him from behind. Chasing his third release, Raha set Bas’ir on his side, lifted his leg over his shoulder and held tight.

In that position, Raha groaned and drove in deep. “Gods, I hope I never go through this alone again. The experience is much more fulfilling this way.”

Bas’ir couldn’t get a word in, though he desperately wanted to react to the Seeker’s ability to pound his ass and carry a one-sided conversation all the while. “Ngh…”

“Are you ready?”

Bas’ir nodded with his eyes clenched shut and pinched at his own nipples.

Once, twice, three times Raha hit hard before spilling again into the Keeper. After basking in the pleasure with his mouth open, he dropped Bas’ir’s leg and let him roll onto his back. They were both covered in sweat. Bas’ir was panting.

“You want more?” Raha asked, pulling out.

“I’m...fine…”

“Oh?” He came forward and pushed Bas’ir’s hands from his chest, kissed all over, lingered in places that always won a reaction.

Bas’ir wrapped his arms around his friend and held _hard_. He didn’t want him to see his face, the little tears mixing with sweat beneath his eyes. He was happy. But happiness alone couldn’t fill him. “Feeling like this...I’ve half-convinced myself I'm in love with you,” he said. A lie. He had loved him for a long time, and was instead half-convinced he ought to say it now.

"Only half?" A cocky smile. “May as well commit, what with how you’ve—how you’ve got ahold of me.”

“I’d spend forever with you.” Then Bas'ir knew his mind was gone, to say something truthful like that. “I’d spend forever with you. Really. If only."

Raha purred. Fire, between and around them. Inside them. “If only what?”

Bas’ir swallowed hard. “I’ll…” His eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll keep it to myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEE HEE
> 
> AGAIN
> 
> NOT CANON

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Lefane and you can yell at me @crystalsexarch on Twitter


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